Behind the Mask
by corneroffandom
Summary: Alberto Del Rio meets someone new.


Four months to the day. Alberto stares at the calendar, reflecting on the day he'd fired Ricardo. At the time, it'd felt good, right. He thought he could focus on his career, be more successful... destroy Cena and retain his title.

Instead, it had all gone to hell. He'd lost to Cena, lost his title, and most dreams of ever being able to regain it, now that it's been unified with the WWE title. Yes, there's still some prestige to the WWE World Heavyweight Title, but it's not the same belt he'd fallen in love with, had fought so hard to obtain and hold onto for all of those years.

He's stewing over all of this, storming down the hall towards the exit, when someone runs into him. He stumbles back, gripping his arm, before turning back to the offender. "Watch where you're going, you braindead perro!" He stops short, staring suspiciously at the masked man. Alberto had seen him here and there the last few months, especially after he'd lost the title, and failed at the rematch, and was ordered to change with the regular competitors, his personal locker room taken from him to make room for the Authority's growing numbers.

El Local, Alberto thinks is the other man's ridiculous name. He hadn't said a word the entire time Alberto had been in his presence over the past few weeks, keeping to himself outside of talking to his tag partner, who had mysteriously disappeared after only a couple of weeks. Not that it matters to Alberto, he has much more important things on his mind. But back to this moment in time, he sneers down at the masked superstar, trying to catch his eye. "Do you ever speak?" he demands, finally growing impatient with the silence. "The least you could do is apologize for disrupting my day, perro."

El Local remains quiet, motionless, so Alberto rolls his eyes. "What kind of losers do WWE insist on hiring anymore?" he mumbles, poking at the other man's shoulder. Every time he touches him, El Local flinches away, as if scared, his breathing growing more and more desperate and loud behind his mask. Alberto laughs in disbelief at such an anxious creature being a wrestler, especially in the supposedly biggest wrestling company ever. Before he can say or do anything other than push El Local back with one last, forceful poke, the man finally reacts- slaps Alberto's hand away and leaves him gaping in shock that this quiet, frightened man had actually stood up and done something.

It pisses him off to be disrespected, yes, but still... for a brief, fleeting moment, he respects the man. "That was a mistake," he says coolly, gripping the man by the face and pushing him back against the wall. "Do you know who I am? Alberto Del Rio. You are a no one. HIding behind your mask like some average fool... I no longer need such things, people like you make me sick..."

El Local sounds like he's about to hyperventilate, his fingers scrabbling against Alberto's arms in an attempt to gain purchase, fight him off... but none of this registers with Alberto as he pins the man against the wall and reaches out for his mask, intent on tearing it off of his face, reveal his shame to the world. How exactly one of El Local's arms get free, he's never sure, but it's with a cracking sound that Alberto's head is sent sideways, the force of El Local's punch leaving him reeling. He gapes at the man as he adjusts his mask, tries to get away, his face turning red with anger. "Qué fue eso?!" he demands, chasing after him.

He's just grabbed him when El Local ducks down, frees himself, and kicks Alberto in the face with all of his might. Alberto staggers back for real this time, catching himself on the same wall that he'd been pinning El Local against just moments earlier, and gapes at the other man. Totally flummoxed, he shakes his head, grits his teeth, and storms away, stewing over the situation the rest of the night in his hotel suite, waiting to be able to go home. It's not until he's on the flight the next morning that he realizes: Under the anger and embarrassment, he's curious about this masked man who refuses to speak or unmask.

So curious that, at the next event, when he once more is refused a personal locker room, he finds himself gravitating towards the corner that El Local has claimed as his own, sitting close to him. The masked man glances at him before falling back to tying his wrestling boots, the fear in what of his face Alberto can see already less from the week prior. Alberto stares down at his own boots, discomforted by the new emotion he's feeling at this realization: Relief. _What is going on with me?_ he wonders, shaking his head. His match that night is short and unsatisfying, more so when he loses.

Returning to the locker room to find El Local gone is the last piece to a confusing, awful day, so he packs up and leaves, gripping his bag much too tightly. His sleep that night is restless, his time home far from as restful as he'd hoped. Returning to the road the following week, entering another arena and walking into another locker room to find El Local once more in that corner, digging around in his bag, is the only thing that wakes Alberto up from the fugue he's been in.

He sits down, a little bit closer than before, and stares into his face until he looks up at him this time. Neither say anything but, when Alberto leaves the ring, eaking out a win finally, he feels slightly better even when he finds that El Local is gone once more. His time home this week is much more relaxed, comfortable, which is clearly a relief to Sofia.

The next few weeks pass in similar fashion, Alberto avoiding the annoying competitors in the locker room by sitting with El Local when not wrestling. Sometimes, El Local even remains after Alberto's matches and, one week, Alberto actually begins to speak to him. It's awkward at first, but he explains to him how little respect he holds for his opponent- Sin Cara- and the man nods quietly, head tilted towards Alberto as he listens curiously. It breaks the barriers between them, Alberto slowly accepting that El Local just doesn't talk, but seems to accept everything Alberto has to say.

One day he walks into the arena just to be snagged by a tech. "You have an interview scheduled with Ricardo Rodriguez," he tells him. "Go to locker room 2, they're setting up now."

Alberto sneers at him, already annoyed. He doesn't want to see his former ring announcer, answer his plodding, uncomfortable questions. Although it is amusing to make him uncomfortable, so Del Rio does everything possible to make Ricardo jump, swatting at him and standing boredly by while the man alternates between English and Spanish to interview him for both broadcasts.

He has no doubt that it's a relief to them both when it's over, finally making his way to the locker room. He stops short upon finding that El Local isn't in his normal place, frowning as he heads over to the corner anyway, dropping his bag onto the floor and sitting on the bench. He's not been sitting there for too long when El Local finally appears, sitting down next to him. "Where have you been?" Alberto demands, turning to look at him. "I am usually not the one to arrive here first." He swats at El Local and turns back towards his bag, unaware as the other man flinches, a frightened look on his face slowly smoothing out.

Alberto's in the middle of talking about the pointless interview he'd just had when he stops short and turns towards El Local, who is staring down at his hands. "Hey, are you alright?" It's the first vocal sign of consideration he's really shown the other man and he's not sure which of them are more surprised by it, if the look El Local throws him is any indication. "You just looked sad," he says finally, feeling lame and strangely vulnerable as he looks back at his own bag. El Local inclines his head in a weary nod, Alberto deciding after a moment that it's his way of saying he's alright. "If you're sure," he says doubtfully.

Another quick nod and Alberto releases a breath. "Alright then," he says, deciding to stop talking for a moment and let El Local have time to himself. They sit quietly for awhile, the droning on from the others washing over them, when Alberto glances over at him again. He still looks glum, his lips twisted into the saddest frown Alberto thinks he's ever seen, and Alberto finds himself wrapping his arms around the man, hugging him tightly. "I'm not sure what's going on, but it's going to be ok, mi amigo."

El Local is frozen, tense under Alberto's fingers, before he finally moves. Wraps his arms around Alberto as well, and buries his face in his shoulder, holding onto him tightly. It only lasts a brief time before he pulls away. He inclines his head once more, gets up, dusts his hands off on his pants and leaves. Alberto watches him go, confused. About both his own actions, and how El Local had responded to it. "What is going on?" he mumbles, scrubbing his face.

After another week apart, they meet up in the same place at the same time. El Local offers him a weak smile, clearly remembering the week prior and Alberto returns it, settling down next to him with a sigh. "How are you?" He still won't speak but Alberto's getting good at reading his body language, the steepling of his fingers, the movement of his head, and he almost prefers this kind of communication. It's easier, and being the main conversation starter has helped Alberto's English skills grow as well over the last couple of weeks.

He's telling him about Sofia and how fussy she is, treating him like he's a child whenever he's home, when he finds his words failing him, his gaze locked on El Local's face. There's a look there, a wistful kind of pain that leaves Alberto a little breathless. Nothing else matters, the other wrestlers in the room, or how soon his match will be, nothing... Alberto tangles his fingers in the fabric of El Local's gear and draws him forward, his eyes locked on El Local's soft lips when he abruptly kisses him, releasing a soft sigh as the tension builds between them, El Local's fingers slowly pressing against Alberto's chest, not fighting him but grounding himself with that touch.

Alberto groans and breaks the kiss reluctantly, peering at him. After Ricardo, his only interest had been in his title, just the way Alberto had wanted it. He hadn't cared about companionship, or anything else... "I don't know what you're doing to me," he murmurs, pressing his forehead to El Local's, the sleek feel of his mask cooling Alberto's flushed skin. "But I don't want it to stop." He can't read the look on El Local's face but he knows what it means when El Local leans in and kisses him desperately, lips parting needily.

Alberto almost misses his entrance cue, and he does lose the match, but the much sharper disappointment is when he returns backstage to find El Local is gone once more. He sighs, his shoulders slumping as he reaches up and touches his lips with a thoughtful expression on his face.

The following week, El Local isn't in his normal place and Alberto panics, searching for him. He finally finds him in catering, standing with his back to the door, and Alberto releases a sharp breath. Ignoring the complaints of the people in line, he cuts in behind El Local and watches him for a moment before tapping him on the shoulder. When he turns around, his face flushes under his mask and Alberto smirks darkly. "Avoiding me, amigo?" He leans forward and taps El Local on the lips.

El Local gasps for breath, shaking his head sharply and Alberto's smirk grows.

"Good to hear," he says, trailing his hand down El Local's gear, lacing their fingers together. "Come with me." They ignore the gaping faces of everyone around them as Alberto drags El Local out of catering and down the hall, looking for- "Aha!" he exclaims, pushing a door open and waiting until El Local walks inside hesitantly. Alberto follows him inside and leans against the door, eyes gleaming as El Local looks around at the quiet, sparse room. "I don't say it very often," he says slowly, watching the masked man. "But I've missed you this past week."

El Local's lips part in shock as he turns to look at Alberto, the older man smiling as he approaches and grips El Local's wrists, squeezing them gently before leaning in for another kiss. El Local swallows hard before swaying into him, kissing him back, and Alberto hums, pushing him until he has him pinned against the wall once more. One arm holding him close and the other pressed against the wall to brace himself, Alberto sighs and finds the zipper holding El Local's body suit together, slowly inching it down.

El Local moves away at this and stares at Alberto, the question that he's unable to vocalize obvious despite how much of his face is still covered by his mask. "I know this isn't something you'd probably expect from someone like me, but..." Alberto cups El Local's face, warmed by the feel of his jaw under his palms and trying not to feel too disappointed when the mask blocks his fingers from feeling more. "I was curious about you from the moment we ran into each other in the hall all of those weeks ago... and I want you," he admits.

El Local stands still for a moment before hugging himself, pushing away from the wall and walking away from Alberto. He stares at the opposite wall for a moment, his silence and stillness beginning to scare Alberto.

The Mexican aristocrat's focus always being on money, his career, and what he could own, he had never really considered how to act when actually trying to start a relationship with someone. His friendship with Ricardo had worked because Ricardo had been simple: As long as he paid him, the ring announcer didn't seem to mind Alberto's moods that much, working with him for years through hell or high water. But it had begun to be at the expense of Alberto's success so he had dropped him eventually...

But this is different, somehow. He doesn't want to risk losing El Local, enjoying the last few weeks of having someone to talk to again. He scrubs his hands over his face and approaches him, resting a hand on his shoulder. "If it's too much, if you only want to be amigos, that's fine-" His words are cut off abruptly when El Local turns sharply and kisses him, hard. Alberto gasps, his hands bunching in the front of El Local's body suit once more, and this time, when he takes control and presses El Local against the wall, the other man doesn't fight him, melting into him instead.

Trailing his lips down to El Local's neck, Alberto groans softly, reaching up for the mask, desperate to see the face of the man he's kissing... but he's just touched the bindings holding it together when El Local grips his hands and shakes his head, lifting Alberto's hands to his lips and kissing them. Alberto grunts, staring up at him in disappointment. "The mask means that much to you, hmm? I left all of that behind when I came to the States... but alright, keep it... for now..." He returns to El Local's zipper, lowering it even further and peppering every inch of flesh that he reveals with heated kisses and soft bites.

Alberto may not be able to see much of El Local's face but he's pretty sure, by his heady breathing and the feel of his fingers in his hair that the man's enjoying himself. Glad that at least El Local's mask leaves his mouth free, Alberto slinks back up and kisses him hard on the lips once more, smirking when El Local tries to follow him after he moves away, pouting when it doesn't work. Alberto shakes his head and laughs, pressing a kiss to the forehead of El Local's mask, wishing that he could actually be a bit more expressive with what he's feeling right now but finding it hard to, mainly because of the mask. "I have a match soon. Catch your breath and I'll be back."

Alberto walks to the door and peers over his shoulder as El Local sinks to the floor, hugging a knee to his chest and breathing in deeply, his head knocking back against the wall. Smirking at this response, he heads to the ring. Wins easily and returns to the locker room to find El Local hadn't moved. Instead of heading right back into making out, he sits down next to El Local and stares ahead for a moment before wrapping an arm around the other man, drawing him closer until he rests his head on Alberto's shoulder. "I'm the type who goes for what I want, without thinking of anyone else involved," Alberto muses, pressing his cheek to the side of El Local's head. "But I don't want to scare you off, so we can go as slow or as fast as you want. You want to keep the mask, you can keep the mask. You want to move beyond what we were doing earlier, I'm more than up for it, or if you just want to take it easy, I'm ok with that too."

El Local shifts, looks up at him, and Alberto wishes again that he could see his eyes, understand exactly how he's feeling. He leans forward and cups Alberto's face, drawing him in for a slow, gentle kiss, Alberto sighing into it. LIps twitching into a smile afterwards, El Local strokes his jaw with warm fingers before standing up. Pulling his zipper back up, he turns and leaves the room as quietly as he'd entered. Alberto gapes after him, uncertain how to take it.

Weeks pass and they continue to see each other well into the spring, even going out together sometimes. Alberto feels himself getting aggravated because he still hasn't seen El Local's face, or even heard his voice, but he tries to keep his temper under control, enjoying what he does get from the other man too much to risk ruining it. After eating a quick meal before they need to drive to the next city, El Local takes Alberto's hand and draws him away from the businesses, staring into his eyes as he leads him down a street and towards the riverfront. "Where are we going?" he asks, laughing almost impatiently.

El Local just smirks, shaking his head as he continues to guide Alberto further down. The sand is soft and before long, Alberto finds himself laying next to El Local, the two of them staring up at the stars and listening to the waves nearby. It's peaceful and calming and before long, Alberto realizes his breaths have evened out in time with El Local's, with the steady drifts of the waves. He smiles and stares up at the night sky, taking in all of the stars, when El Local rolls over and hovers a couple of inches above him. "What are you doing?" Alberto whispers, his voice soft as he reaches up to touch El Local's face. "Hmm-?"

El Local leans in and kisses him, sighing into his mouth as he runs his hand down Alberto's chest. Searching his bunched up shirt, he finds and begins to undo the buttons slowly, repeating Alberto's actions from the first time they'd been alone like this. Alberto releases a breath and cups El Local's face, holding him in place even as he continues to fumble with his clothes. "I wish I could see your eyes," he murmurs, shaking his head ruefully and drawing El Local back down to kiss him hard.

Between the waves and the stars, the wind blowing through Alberto's hair, and El Local's quiet focus, it's a nearly perfect moment.

Summer passes slowly, and El Local slowly grows comfortable around Alberto, his lifestyle. They spend so much time together, he can't tell anymore where he ends and El Local begins. Whenever they are apart, Alberto feels adrift, with no one and nothing to hold onto. Even Sofia likes the man, which, considering how broken and distrustful she was after the loss of Ricardo, says a lot. They spend their days off around the mansion, enjoying the pond or taking drives in one of Alberto's many cars. His career may still be floundering, worse than before- sometimes he's not even booked at all- but his personal life has never felt so rewarding.

Late July, he's hugging El Local lazily, scanning through his text alerts, when he sees it. _Ricardo Rodriguez has been released by WWE..._ They hadn't been friends for almost a full year by now, but still. It feels like a knife to his heart. He knows how much Ricardo had loved this business, sacrificing so much just to work with him, and with time had gone most of his bitterness towards the way their working relationship had ended, Ricardo betraying him by turning to that worthless perro RVD. El Local shifts next to him and Alberto looks down, finding him looking towards his phone. "My former ring announcer was released from WWE," Alberto murmurs.

El Local remains motionless for a moment before releasing a soft sigh and rolling over, staring down at Alberto. Cupping his face, he leans in and kisses Alberto soothingly, stroking his chest with trembling fingers.

"Hey, hey, are you ok?" Alberto asks, cupping his hands and lifting them up to his lips to kiss gently. El Local nods but he's still trembling so Alberto wraps him up in his arms and holds him close, not sure what brought this on but wishing that El Local trusted him enough to at least talk to him. He had come to accept the eccentric man, how reluctant he was to give up his masked persona, but it still eats at him, especially in moments like these. Pushing El Local back so he can at least see some of his face, he smiles wanly. "El Local? I've fallen in love with you," he admits lowly, hoping that perhaps this'll be enough to make the other man speak.

No such luck as El Local stares at him for long, silent moments, before leaning in and kissing him breathless. _I guess that means he feels the same?_ Alberto thinks uncertainly, curling his fingers around El Local's shoulders and holding onto him.

For the first time in a long time, Alberto walks into the arena that Monday and immediately senses something is off. The locker room, catering, the bathrooms, even outside under the stars. El Local is nowhere to be seen. His brows furrow and he asks around, tech after tech, but they merely shake their heads, looking as confused as he feels. He wrestles and leaves, sitting in his hotel room and staring at his phone. Except for a twitter account, there's no way to contact the man: he'd never gotten a phone number or an address for El Local, which heightens his worry. "Where _are_ you?" Alberto demands, running a hand over his face.

The next night, he has a match on Main Event against Swagger, and he wrestles it, unaware of what's going to follow after it. His temper is hot, since he's never liked Swagger, and he'd wanted to be heading home to try to figure out what's going on with El Local by now, but worse than that is the comments that he hears from people backstage after the match. Racial issues always are brought to the forefront after a match like this, and unlike before, he doesn't have Ricardo to act like a buffer. He doesn't even have El Local to talk to, and so he loses it. His temper, his job, everything lost in one punch.

He flies home, lost in bitterness and anger, hurt and worried about what might have happened to El Local. He even ignores Sofia, unable to think of anything to say to her to explain the last few days. Remains in his room and stares at the wall, wondering how everything had fallen apart so thoroughly in such a short amount of time. How much time has passed, he's not sure, but eventually the news hits the Internet, he sees it on his phone, same as he'd seen Ricardo's announcement almost a week prior- and how is that for irony?- and Sofia is there with food, and drinks. She doesn't say much, just stroking his hair and murmuring in Spanish so softly that he doesn't catch it.

She leaves and he sits quietly, staring blankly out of his window, until there's a soft knock on his door. He expects it to be Sofia again but when the door opens, it's not her step on the floor heading his way. He looks up and then over, almost pushing his chair over in his haste to get to his feet, grabbing El Local by the arms and shaking him. "Where have you been!?" he demands, hugging him hard. "I was so worried, I thought-"

El Local touches his arm, releases a breath and steps away from him, turning so his back is to Alberto. Alberto is about to say something when he reaches up, touching the back of his mask and slowly undoing it. He's hesitant, swallowing hard as it slowly falls away from his face, revealing familiar black hair. It's not until he turns around that Alberto gets the full picture: the pained green eyes and the face that Alberto had known better than his own for so many years. " _No,_ " Alberto breathes, falling back to sit on the edge of his bed. "This entire time... it's been _you_?" he demands.

Ricardo swallows, nodding. His eyes are locked on the floor as he finally, finally begins to speak. "Si, it was, El Patron. I... didn't want it to be this way, but... you looked so lost in that hallway when we first met while I was in this gear, and you began spending more time with me... I started to see the man that I used to know under all of the anger... I thought perhaps El Local was who you needed. So I stayed, and you're him again. You're my El Patron. Perhaps you don't want me anymore, and I understand, who would after I've lied to you for so long, but please don't throw him away because of it." He smiles wanly. "El Patron, you are a good man. Let the whole world see it, por favor, especially now that you're free of WWE and its expectations."

Alberto says nothing and Ricardo nods. "I'll see myself out. Just please, don't forget what I said. Don't forget the man you were... to him." Stepping forward, he takes Alberto's hands and presses the mask into them, smiling down at him. "The man you once were to me." Squeezing his fingers, he stands up tall and heads for the door.

He's barely made it five steps when arms wrap around him, holding him tight. "No, no," Alberto breathes against his neck. "Please, no, Ricardo. Do you know how badly I wanted to see your eyes, hear your voice this entire time?" He turns Ricardo around and cups his face. "Por favor..." Ricardo looks up at him and Alberto sighs, pressing his forehead to the younger man's. "I should've known it was you, you were the only person who ever accepted me as I am, and understood me... when I read you were fired, it felt like I couldn't breathe. Despite everything, I just wanted you nearby... and now I know why El Local wasn't there last week..." He stares into Ricardo's eyes, realization slowly dawning on him. "We're both free."

"Si, we are," Ricardo mumbles, his words fading into a soft moan as Alberto kisses him. "El Patron..." He stares up at him, smiling. "I love you too."

Alberto grins, his emotions starting to get the best of him as he hugs Ricardo tightly. "I know we have a lot to work through still," he breathes, staring down at the mask that had slowly brought them back together. "But we will. I have no doubt. Just never do that to me again."

"I promise," Ricardo nods, burying his face in Alberto's shoulder. "You will never have to worry about that."

"Good," he breathes. They stand in each other's arms for a few moments before Alberto laughs brokenly. "Sofia is going to lose her mind when she realizes you are him." Ricardo laughs too, eyes shining as Alberto leans in and kisses him gently.


End file.
